


You Have Me

by esteoflorien



Category: Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteoflorien/pseuds/esteoflorien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They only like to look at me," Rebecca says. "They don’t love me the way you do."</p>
<p>(Bexy prompted: Rebecca/Danvers, “The Cow Song," by Sadie & the Hotheads.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Have Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PerilouslyClose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerilouslyClose/gifts).



The thing you hate most about dressing your mistress for parties is that the women she’ll spend her evening entertaining don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Rebecca de Winter. The men don’t bother you; let them look. Rebecca discards men she has no use for; it’s the women who concern you, no matter how many whispered reassurances you hear when Rebecca comes home and rests against you, all of her limp with exhaustion.

 ( _You know I love you, Danny_ , she says tiredly, an indulgent smile flickering about her mouth.)

They flit around her, each more painted than the next, dressed in layers of silk and lace. If it was even ten years earlier, they’d be fluttering their fans in her direction. They stare at her, wide-eyed, as if she’s barely real, and in a way, she isn’t. They follow wherever she goes; sometimes you wonder what it is to be so watched, to be looked at as if on display.

( _They only like to look at me_ , Rebecca says.  _They don’t love me the way you do_.)

You know that they amuse her. She likes to watch them right back, though they don’t see it for what it is. She nods and smiles in all the right places, laughs when she wants. She guides the conversation, makes them hang on her every word.  _Everyone loves her_ , isn’t that what you always say? If you’re honest with yourself, you love to see the glittering queen that she is; you like to see them fawn over her.

 ( _I can handle them,_ Rebecca laughs.  _I come home to you, don’t I?_ )

She’s most beautiful when you’ve undressed her; when you’ve wiped away the rouge and the lipstick and the kohl that just barely lines her eyes. She looks older, then; she looks less fantastical. If the Rebecca at the parties is a star beyond your reach, this Rebecca has fallen to earth. She waits on you, as always, to make her shine, and you do. You make her shiver and tremble with her need; your touch flushes her skin pink with her passion; you make her glow with her anticipation and glisten with her desire. She is magnificent like this: terrifyingly, beautifully  _real_.

( _Oh, Danny_ , she breathes,  _you have me._ )

When she has reached her climax she sets out in search of yours, and you are reminded of how different she is with you than with the others. Her lips speak only words of love with you; her touch is purposeful, not insouciant; she laughs with delight when you arch your body towards her hands; she pleasures you still trembling from her own, the kind of generosity those women will never see.

_You have me,_ she whispers, curled against you, her hand warm on your breast in the afterglow of your passion, and you believe her.


End file.
